Darrel Morris’s highly original, painstakingly worked swatches of cloth and embroidery constitute an absorbing investigation into memory and confrontation. In dreamlike scenes and funny/sad vignettes from his childhood and his short-lived career as a draftsman, the pieces on view in Morris’s New York solo debut revolve around moments of disappointment, hurt, shame, and anger. Most deal with a father’s frustration toward his son. In the rueful Good Paper, 2001, for example, the father stands gesturing angrily over his little boy, who sits on the floor drawing on a sheet of notebook paper. A speech bubble extending from the father’s mouth reads: NEVER USE GOOD PAPER TO DRAW ON! USE THE BACK OF A CALENDAR OR THE INSIDE OF AN OLD ENVELOPE. Morris reminds us that moments this stinging tend to have echoes in adulthood—in, for instance, the humiliation of having to hula hoop with the guys at work